The Past is Prologue
by NatesMama
Summary: Booth and Brennan face a challenge they never expected, from a source neither saw coming. Can they face this new threat together, or will this be the thing that finally tears them apart forever?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:I can't believe I am starting another multi-chapter story, but this one just wouldn't go away no matter how hard I tried. I've got a few more chapters completed, so hopefully updates won't take as long as I usually end up taking. **

**Special thanks to BrainySmrfs for the read-throughs and the title suggestion.  
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**This story takes place in mid-2013. **

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Chapter One

Booth sauntered into the break room on his floor at the Hoover and began to pick through what was left of the donuts from the morning. Without thinking, he listened in on the conversation two of his colleagues were having behind him, neither agent aware of Booth's presence.

"Yeah, the guy was shot right between the eyes. His wife reported him missing and the car was found three days later, in Belle Isle State Park, body was in the trunk."

"Was he shot in the trunk of the car, or was he thrown in there afterward?"

"Forensics said he was shot in the trunk. We're looking at suspects, but the pool is pretty large."

"Lots of enemies?"

"Oh yeah. Guy did time for child abuse back about 15 years ago back in Illinois. All foster kids he and his wife took in. We're going over the list of kids now, but it's pretty long."

Booth couldn't contain the shudder that ran through him at the other agent's description of his current case. _Nah, it couldn't possibly be…_ He thought to himself, turning around and dropping any pretense of subterfuge.

"Hey Roberts…quick question?"

Agent Greg Roberts turned around, eyebrows raised. "Uh, sure Agent Booth. What's up?"

Booth settled against the counter behind him, trying to look casual. "The case you were just talking about…I couldn't help overhearing. What's the victim's name?"

Roberts took a sip of his coffee before answering. "Dale McInerney. Why, did you know him?"

Booth shook his head and grabbed his cup, already heading for the door. "Nah, just sounded like a case from awhile ago. Guess I was wrong. Thanks."

The agents nodded in answer, and then turned back to their conversation, completely unaware of the fact that they had just dropped a lit match on a possible forest fire.

B&B

"Bren, can you take a look at this sketch? I think it's accurate, but the bone structure is so odd I'm not sure I got it right." Angela laid her artist's pad in front of her obviously preoccupied best friend, tapping her on the shoulder when the action failed to get Brennan's attention.

"What? Oh, I'm sorry, Angela. I've been studying the reconstruction Dr. Wick did on the skull so I didn't hear you come in." Brennan turned from her laptop and picked up the sketch Angela was so worried about. "Actually, I think you did a great job, Ang. Considering the anomalies, this is going to be a difficult identification, but your sketch looks to be very accurate when compared to the reconstruction."

Angela sighed in relief. "Thanks, Bren. After being on vacation for a month, I was afraid I was losing my touch."

Brennan smiled. "Never." Her smile widened when she noticed Booth over Angela's shoulder, leaning against her doorframe. "Hey, Booth. Angela finished her sketch of the victim; we should have an ID for you soon."

"Good morning, Booth." Angela smiled in welcome. "Let me go run this through missing persons and we'll see what we get." She patted Booth on the shoulder as she passed, winking at Brennan before heading back to her own office.

Booth waited until Angela was far enough away, and then closed and locked Brennan's office door. Crossing the room to where Brennan waited at her desk, he took her face in both hands and kissed her deeply, drawing a surprised squeak out of his partner.

When they parted, Brennan tipped her head back and regarded Booth curiously. "What's wrong?"

"There has to be something wrong for me to want to come over and kiss my girl?" Booth dropped onto the couch and leaned back, trying to look casual.

"Booth…" She sat next to him and placed a hand on his now-bouncing leg. "Stop it. Tell me what's wrong."

Brennan watched, worry escalating with each passing moment, as Booth pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes, head falling back onto the back of the sofa. She waited while he collected his thoughts, and just as she opened her mouth to ask him again to talk to her, he opened his eyes and asked her a question that rocked her to her core.

"Do you know the name Dale McInerney?"

Brennan had previously thought it impossible, but it seemed to her as though all the oxygen in her office was sucked out at once. She gasped at Booth's vocalization of a name she had tried very hard to forget, and covered her mouth in horror.

Booth sat up and reached out for her, surprised when she batted his hand away. "Did you go looking into my foster care file?" She hissed.

Shaking his head sadly, Booth reached for her again, this time refusing her brush-off. "No, Bones. I wouldn't do that and you know it."

Brennan thought about his words, and who they were coming from, and realized that he was right. Booth would never snoop into her past; he would simply ask her if he wanted to know. "I- I'm sorry, Booth. I do know that." She was angry to discover that her voice was shaking. "But, then…why-"

"He's dead. Murdered."

"How did you know…"

"I overheard the agent in charge of the investigation. He was describing a man who had been shot and then left in his car trunk. The victim had been a foster parent in Illinois, and had been sent to prison for abusing a lot of the kids he was supposed to be caring for." He took in her deathly pale face and wrapped a comforting arm around her. "It just seemed like one hell of a coincidence."

"Yes." Brennan shook her head, still in shock. "I imagine those particular facts triggered your suspicions."

"When you say 'suspicions'…you know that it never crossed my mind that you would do something like that, right?" Booth looked genuinely distressed that she would think he would ever suspect her of cold-blooded murder.

"No, I know that. I just meant…you knew who he was; even with the small amount of information you were given. I imagine that is why you are an exemplary investigator." She picked at a loose thread on her slacks, trying to organize her thoughts. "Do you think…I mean, will I be a suspect?"

"They are going over a list of foster kids McInerney took in, so…yeah. They'll probably bring you in for questioning. It's standard procedure." He was rubbing soothing circles on her back, trying to stop the nervous shakes that were wracking her body. "But you have nothing to hide, so it shouldn't be a very long interview."

"But they will make me tell them about the abuse, correct?"

Booth reached down and pulled her shoes off, and then lifted her onto his lap, where she immediately wrapped her arms around his shoulders and buried her face in his neck. "I'll see if they'll let me be there with you, okay, Bones? They might not, but I can ask. I'll try like hell."

He felt her nod against his shoulder, then release a breath he knew she had been holding since he mentioned McInerney's name. Suddenly, Brennan sat up and Booth watched in fascination as a steely, determined look settled on her face, eyes sharp and bright. "No more of this. He's dead and I survived him and won't let him ruin my life anymore." Booth felt a warm, affectionate admiration spread through him at her resolve and he pulled her into another tight embrace. "I won't let him hurt me again, Booth. I won't." She whispered.

"I know you won't, babe. I know."

Brennan jumped off Booth's lap in one smooth, sudden movement and walked purposefully to her desk. She grabbed her paperwork, absently stuffing it into her messenger bag as she went. Then she turned on her heel and grabbed her jacket, handing it to Booth, who helped her slip it over her arms. She turned and smoothed down Booth's collar, her hands sliding down to straighten his lapels. "Now, you're going to take me out for a nice dinner, maybe we'll go for a walk on the Mall, then we're going to go home and see what we can find to do to distract ourselves. Alright?" For a moment, Booth caught a flash of insecurity in her eyes, and then it was gone again, replaced by the stoic Temperance Brennan he knew and loved.

Booth slid his hand down her arm to her hand, lacing their fingers together. "Sounds good, Bones. Let's go." He let her lead the way out of her office; ignoring the sinking feeling in his stomach that something truly horrible was lying in wait on the horizon.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Quick note, I mistyped in the first author's note. This story takes place in mid-2013, not 2012. Sorry about that. **

**And thanks for the reviews and story alerts...hopefully this lives up to expectations. **

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Chapter Two

Booth collapsed in a sweaty heap next to the heaving, just-as-sweaty body of his girlfriend, desperately trying to catch his breath. "Damn, Bones…" He sucked in air and tried again. "That was…"

Brennan nodded face-down into her pillow. Her muffled response in agreement drew a chuckle from Booth and he rolled to the side and kissed her naked shoulder. "You okay there, Bones? I kind of bent you like a pretzel there for a minute…"

Smiling widely, Brennan finally raised her head and nodded again. "I assure you, I am more…more than alright. Thank you."

"You're very welcome. We aim to please."

"And you always hit what you aim for."

Laughing happily, Booth pulled Brennan over and hitched her up so that she was sprawled across his chest. "You really are becoming quite amusing, Bones."

"I believe I've been telling you that for years, Booth." She grinned up at him, and then bent her head to kiss his chest affectionately. Booth sucked in a breath and pulled her closer, still completely charmed by her loving nature even after almost two years of sharing his bed and his life with her.

When they had finally decided to give up all pretenses and admit their still-intense feelings for one another, Booth assumed he would be the one who would have to guide her through the more intimate aspects of an exclusive, loving, committed relationship. But time and again, Brennan surprised him with her spontaneity and passion and dedication to making them work as a couple. Both in bed and out, Brennan was the fearless one, the one who lead by example, and Booth was right there beside her, in constant amazement of her. Even after all this time, there was still so much to learn about Temperance Brennan, and Booth was a willing and eager student.

"Hey, before I get sidetracked by your naked breasts all pressed up against me, one of us needs to be here this afternoon for the cable guy."

Brennan rolled her eyes. "You are more than welcome. I am not the one who is in agony over the loss of the sports tier. You can wait for them; I have a 16th century Samurai warrior to catalogue."

"A Samurai? Really, Bones? That's so cool!" Booth grinned like a kid at Christmas, excited in a way that surprised Brennan.

Brennan pulled herself up into a sitting position, quirking an eyebrow. "I admit, I am looking forward to this examination as well. It should shed some light into pre-industrial Japan, and it may even warrant a journal thesis."

"That's great, Bones. Sounds like you have a full day ahead of you, so why don't you take the shower first and I'll scrounge something up for breakfast." He jumped out of bed, giving Brennan a perfect view of his backside as he rooted around for the boxers he'd discarded the night before. He turned and hid his smirk at Brennan's glazed eyes, still trained on his half-naked body. "Bones?"

"Hmm?" She shook her head, forcibly pulling her attention back to Booth's words and not his body. "Oh. Yes, I'll take the first shower. And don't go to too much trouble with breakfast, there is some fruit salad in there I can eat."

Pointedly ignoring Brennan's ogling, Booth nodded and headed for the bedroom door. "It's a plan. Have a nice shower. Get all the good spots."

Brennan shook her head, amused, as she got out of bed and moved to the bathroom. It both embarrassed and excited her that seeing Seeley Booth naked every day never seemed to get old. She had known that he was well-structured long before they began sleeping together, but the reality was so much better than any fantasy she refused to admit she'd ever had about her partner. Turning on the water in the shower stall, she smiled to herself. Despite the fact that everything in her life seemed to be going better than she had ever anticipated, exploring a relationship with Booth had turned out to be, by far, the best decision she had ever made. And she was comforted by the fact that no matter what happened; Booth was there, with her, to stay. She knew with the same certainty that she knew the bones of the human body that he would always be there for her. And it was with that happy thought that she stepped into the shower and officially began her day.

B&B

Cameron McDonald glanced into her bathroom mirror as she twisted her long hair into a tight bun on the back of her head. Once each stray lock was firmly in place, she turned and grabbed the blouse behind her, pulling it over her shoulders and buttoning it quickly. She put the final touches on her uniform and checked her reflection one more time before heading into the small, cluttered living room of the one bedroom apartment she had called home for the last six years. After collecting her keys and knapsack, she took one more look around before exiting the apartment and locking the door behind her.

She took the rickety stairs quickly, already running late and chastising herself for staying up to watch the local news. So far, there had been no mention of the police finding Dale's body, but she knew that it was only a matter of time. In fact, she was counting on the authorities finding him much sooner. The only reason she could think of that might have prevented his discovery sooner was that she had hidden the car too well. Luckily, she knew that her timing was impeccable and in the end it didn't matter when they found Dale, only that they found him…and all of the messages that she had left with him.

Cameron turned on a local talk radio station, no longer interested in the news. As she steered her car into the nightmare that was Washington DC traffic, an enigmatic smile crossed her face. It might not be today, and it might not be tomorrow, but eventually Temperance Brennan was going to pay dearly for ruining her life.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Brennan left Booth comfortably reclined on the sofa playing a video game when she left their apartment to head for the Jeffersonian. She stopped at the coffee shop on the corner and picked up a large chai tea and some fresh ginger snaps, and then made her way to the lab.

Once inside the sterile but comforting environs of her workplace, Brennan made a beeline for her office, eager to begin working on her Samurai warrior. She loved this feeling…right before she began to examine a new set of remains. The thrill of unraveling the mystery of who the bones on her table belonged to, what they had done with their life, how they had managed to end up in her lab…all questions she looked forward to finding the answers to each and every time, without fail. It was the most satisfying part of her job.

Moving quickly, Brennan removed her jacket and grabbed her lab coat, preparing to head to the platform, where Dr. Edison had been kind enough to lay the bones out earlier that morning. With a quick glance, she could see her former intern, now colleague, having a lively conversation with Hodgins to the left of the platform, but no sign of any other team members. Just as she finished her tea and began to head out the door, her office phone rang.

"Brennan." She answered impatiently.

There was a beat of silence, and then an official-sounding voice responded. "Dr. Brennan? This is Charlie Burns."

"Charlie? Is something wrong?" She sat down at her desk with a whoosh, knowing exactly why Booth's former protégé was calling.

"Dr. Brennan…uh, we have a situation here. Do you remember a man named Dale McInerney?"

Sighing, Brennan nodded to herself. "Yes, I remember Dale. What can I help you with?"

"If you could come down to the Hoover, Dr. Brennan…this would be better discussed in person." Charlie sounded apologetic, and Brennan felt bad for letting him believe she didn't know what was going on.

Looking wistfully up at the remains on the platform, Brennan acquiesced. "Sure, that isn't a problem. Would it be alright if I brought Booth with me?"

More silence on the other end, and then Charlie said the one thing Brennan never expected. "Booth is already down here, Dr. Brennan. He is being interrogated as we speak."

"What? Why?" Brennan was shocked and incredibly confused.

"Just…please come down here, Dr. Brennan. As soon as you can."

B&B

After letting Cam know that she was leaving, Brennan headed out immediately, arriving at the J. Edgar Hoover Building in less than ten minutes. She signed into the reception area and practically ran for the elevators, so distracted she didn't notice the looks she was being given by the agents in the car with her. Once she reached the correct floor, she exited quickly and began looking for Charlie Burns in a near panic. Finally seeing the senior agent standing outside one of the interrogation rooms, she rushed over to him, not caring about how frantic she looked.

"Charlie! What the hell is going on?" She took a deep breath and tried to control her shaking hands. "Why is Booth being interrogated?"

Charlie nodded to the agent standing next to him, and quietly led Brennan to a second interview room, escorting her in and closing the door behind him. "Please, Dr. Brennan…have a seat."

Realization finally dawned, and Brennan sank down into the hard metal chair, boneless. "Divide and conquer. Oh, my God."

Charlie quirked an eyebrow at her before taking the seat directly across the table. "I promise you, Dr. Brennan, this is a simple fact-finding interview. You are not under suspicion for anything."

"Are you going to tell me about Dale?" She was feeling more herself now, once she realized that Charlie was lying to her about his intentions. She had attended enough of them to know an interrogation when she was right on the middle of one.

Charlie opened the questioning without preamble. "Two days ago, Dale McInerney was found shot to death in Belle Isle State Park. He was hog tied in the trunk of his car. Where were you five days ago, Wednesday the 11th?"

Brennan affected a shocked look, but her stammered answer was genuine. "I…I, uh…I was at work most of the day. Was there a specific time you were inquiring about?"

Charlie checked his notes, and then locked eyes with Brennan. "What did you do after work that day?"

"If I remember correctly, I went home."

"Were you alone?"

"No, I-" Suddenly, the reason that Booth was in the other interview room came into sharp focus. "Actually, yes. Booth had a late meeting, and he didn't get home until after I…" She trailed off, a sick feeling settling in the pit of her stomach.

"After you what, Dr. Brennan?" Charlie urged gently.

Closing her eyes, Brennan shook her head. "He didn't do this, Charlie. You know that."

"Right now, I don't know anything." Charlie leaned forward, and then made a slashing motion across his throat in the direction of the observation window. Once he was satisfied that the recording devices were off, he continued. "There is forensic evidence that puts Booth at the crime scene, Dr. Brennan. Solid, indisputable evidence that we had triple checked by a third party lab this morning. So it's bad, and if you want me to even begin to sort this all out, I need you to tell me when Booth came home last Wednesday night."

"Charlie…" She covered her mouth with one hand, while the other curled into a fist in her lap. Her heart was screaming at her to keep her mouth shut, but her head, in a voice that sounded infuriatingly like Booth's, was telling her to speak the truth. "I…don't know. I was asleep." Her voice was almost a whisper, but Agent Burns heard every word.

"Thank you, Dr. Brennan." He stood, collecting his papers quietly. "I will have another agent escort you out." He turned and started to open the door, stopping briefly. He looked at Brennan, who was staring at the wall with a shell-shocked expression on her face. "Dr. Brennan? For what it's worth, I don't believe that Booth did this. But I have to follow the evidence. More than anyone, I hope that you can appreciate that." He waited for a moment, and when it was clear Brennan wasn't going to respond, he gave her one parting piece of advice.

"Call a lawyer, Dr. Brennan. As soon as you can." And then he was gone, leaving Brennan alone in the room with her dark thoughts.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Brennan walked quickly into the Jeffersonian Medico-Legal Lab and headed determinedly towards Cam's office without pausing. Once there, she found her erstwhile boss standing over an empty autopsy table, paperwork strewn in front of her and a look of concentration on her face. When she noticed Brennan had joined her, she started to smile.

"Dr. Brennan, did you get-" Cam stopped and took in Brennan's pale face and shaking hands. "What's wrong?"

"I need to speak to everyone. It's very important." Not wanting to have to repeat her news, Brennan asked Cam to assemble the team in Angela's office. With a sinking feeling, Cam followed Brennan's request and soon she, along with Angela and Hodgins, was settled in the artist's office, anxiously waiting for Brennan to speak.

For her part, Brennan was bouncing between complete panic and total confusion. She knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Booth would never kill anyone without provocation, but Charlie had claimed that there was forensic evidence that pointed to Booth…and the scientist in her was warring heavily with the woman for control of her emotions.

"Bren, what is going on? Where's Booth?" Angela asked, leaning forward in her seat on the sofa. "You're making me nervous."

Brennan took a deep breath and plunged right in. "Booth is at the Hoover, being interrogated in relation to a murder investigation. They claim that there is evidence pointing to him as the killer."

Typically, everyone reacted strongly to her news, Hodgins especially seemed incredibly angry that anyone would suspect Booth of killing anyone. "This has to be a conspiracy!" He turned to his wife, pointing a shaking finger at her. "See? I knew it was just a matter of time before someone resented Booth's success and decided to take him out!"

"Shut up, Hodgins." Cam said, quietly. She turned her attention back to Brennan. "Dr. Brennan, who does the FBI think Booth killed?"

"His name was Dale McInerney. He was one of my foster fathers, and he…abused me while I lived with him. He had abused other children in his care, and subsequently spent an extended amount of time in prison. He was released and moved to Virginia. Five days ago, he disappeared. Three days after that, he was found in Belle Isle State Park, in the trunk of his car, with a single gunshot to the head." Brennan finished her short soliloquy and dropped into the nearest chair.

"But…that's ridiculous." Angela weighed in. "If he served prison time for abusing you, Booth wouldn't have gone after him now. What would be the point? And why would they suspect him in the first place? What evidence do they claim to have?"

"I don't know, Ang. They wouldn't tell me."

Cam sat forward, looking determined. "You mentioned how he was found in his car. Is that significant?"

The color drained completely from Brennan's face as she nodded. She looked to the three people in the room, their eyes trained on her with concern and love…not judgment. It was enough to push her forward. "Dale McInerney was very cruel when it came to his house rules. We had to make our beds with military precision, any speck of dust found anywhere in the house was immediately grounds for punishment, all meals had to be served at very specific times of day, every day…it was very much like I imagine indentured slaves lived. If we broke or even bent one of his rules, the consequences were usually swift and always severe." She swallowed thickly, finding the next part of the story hard to vocalize, until Cam reached over and clutched her hand tightly, encouraging her silently to continue.

"One evening, I was doing the dishes after dinner. Dale insisted that the dishwater always be just this side of boiling, and it was often very hard to complete the task, as usually by the end your hands became numb from the constant heat. In any case, due to the hot water and soap, my hands were slippery and clumsy, and I dropped a plate, breaking it." Hodgins winced, knowing that the worst part of the story was coming. "Dale warned us that if we ever broke a dish we would be punished severely, but I didn't know…" She took a breath and forced herself to continue. "For my rule infraction, I was locked in the trunk of his car for three days."

Angela stood and ran for her trash can, heaving and coughing. Hodgins stood next to her, rubbing her back, tears in his own eyes. Only Cam stayed stoic, but Brennan saw something else in her eyes she couldn't identify.

"Even though I know in my heart that Seeley would never have killed this guy, I would never blame him if he had." Cam's eyes narrowed, her hand never releasing Brennan's. She didn't vocalize her admiration of the accomplished woman in front of her, but she let her feelings show on her face and through her touch. "You reported him to authorities after this happened?"

Brennan nodded, giving Angela a worried glance as she settled back onto the couch. "Apparently, I was the first. But once the police started investigating, other kids began telling their stories as well. Eventually, twelve of us testified against Dale and he was given fifteen years."

"Good for you, Bren." Angela managed to find her voice, her eyes still watery. "So you all testified against him? That must have been very hard."

Brennan shook her head. "Not all of us testified. The girl who lived with us at the same time refused, in fact she testified for Dale, saying that I was a liar. But the other witnesses were more than enough to convict. In any case, he did his time and I hadn't given him a thought in years."

Hodgins continued to caress Angela's back as he questioned Brennan. "Did Booth know about any of this? You told him?"

Brennan nodded. "A few years ago, a situation presented itself where it was necessary for me to reveal something about my past, and Booth was there for that. But I never told him Dale's name, and I know that he never investigated further."

"How do you know?" Cam asked.

"Because he told me that he didn't." Brennan's simple reply was accepted unequivocally by the others. "And then yesterday, Booth overheard the agent on the case speaking about finding Dale's body, and that he had done time in Illinois for child abuse on foster kids, and he put it together and asked me if it was the same man."

"Wow. Talk about a coincidence." Cam breathed. "What are the chances?"

"With this group? Not as infinitesimal as you'd think." Hodgins lamented. "Does the FBI know that you and Booth knew ahead of time?"

"I imagine they do now. Booth wouldn't have lied about it." Brennan sighed. "And unfortunately, for the timeframe of the murder, I can't give Booth an alibi."

"Why not?" Angela asked.

"Because he wasn't home. He had a meeting at the Hoover, apparently. Or, at least he said that he did. Charlie didn't seem to think that was true, so I don't know now…" It finally occurred to Brennan that Booth had told her that he had a _meeting_, but never said where or why.

"If Booth said he had a meeting, then he had a meeting." Cam was sure of Booth's honesty, even as Brennan flagged a bit.

Brennan shook her head. "Now that I think about it, he didn't say the meeting was at the Hoover. Just that he had a meeting."

"Oh. A _meeting_, meeting?" Hodgins asked.

"Yes, now that I think about it, a GA meeting makes more sense. But he didn't get home until late or at least until after I'd gone to bed. So I can't testify as to when he arrived home."

Angela noticed that Brennan was troubled about the timeline for the day Dale was murdered, so she helped her friend break down the day for her. "What time did you get home that day, Bren?"

"The usual time, around six." On Angela's encouraging nod, she continued. "I made myself a quick dinner, because I knew Booth was going to be late. He called around seven to let me know that he was going to a meeting and that he would probably be even later. I worked on my paperwork for a bit, but I was exhausted so I went to bed before ten. When I got up in the morning, Booth was in bed but I have no idea when he got home."

"Did he ever say when he got home? That day or any time after?" Cam asked, slipping into cop-mode with ease.

"No. That was the day we caught the Erickson case, and we were busy. It never occurred to me to ask."

All four of them sat silently, trying to think of something comforting to say but all coming up short. Brennan finally broke the stalemate and brought them all crashing headlong into the terrible reality of the situation with her next question.

"Hodgins, do you happen to know of a good defense lawyer?"


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Brennan sat at her desk in her office and contemplated her next course of action. She had tried several times that morning to contact someone at the Hoover, up to and including ADD Hacker, to find out what was going on with Booth, to no avail. Her frustration was currently being vented on the secretary of the lawyer Hodgins had referred her to, and the woman apparently had no idea who she was dealing with.

"I understand that Ms. Edwards is very busy, but I assure you, she will want to speak with me. I was referred by Dr. Jack Hodgins, and-" Brennan was cut off by the other woman asking her to hold suddenly. After a moment of what sounded like 'Born in the USA' set to Muzak, another voice came on the line.

"Dr. Brennan?"

"Yes, this is Dr. Brennan."

"This is Bernadette Edwards, I am so sorry that my assistant didn't put you through right away. Jack called and told me to expect your call."

"That's fine, Ms. Edwards. Did Dr. Hodgins explain why I needed to speak with you?" Brennan tapped her pen lightly on the desk blotter and tried to breathe through the knot that settled in her stomach every time she had to explain Booth's situation.

"Yes, he did. And please, call me Bernadette. Now, Jack tells me that your partner is under suspicion for murder? That is Special Agent Booth, correct?" The lawyer sounded as confused as Brennan felt.

Even though the other woman couldn't see it, Brennan nodded. "Yes. I don't know yet if he has been charged, but I wanted to retain your services in anticipation of the worst possible scenario."

"Well, Dr. Brennan…I have to say that I am both flattered by your trust and saddened by the circumstances. You and Agent Booth are very well known in the law enforcement community here, and I am happy to offer any assistance I can."

Brennan was surprised that the lawyer didn't press her for many details, so she had to ask. "I appreciate your loyalty, but I am confused as to why you are so quick to offer it."

Bernadette made a noncommittal noise that sounded to Brennan like a snort. "Let's just say that not only am I aware of your contributions to eliminating the worst of the worst from the general population, I owe Jack Hodgins for my entire career, and when he says that Agent Booth is innocent, I believe him. You may not know this, but I am one of the head lawyers for the Innocence Project, and I've seen firsthand how convictions for those who are not truly guilty can ruin lives. If I can, for once, prevent a wrongful conviction, I am all in."

Despite herself, the woman's passionate speech made Brennan smile slightly. "Well, while your belief in Booth's innocence is greatly appreciated, I am honestly hoping that we will not need your services."

"I completely agree, Dr. Brennan. Lawyers are usually only needed when things are going badly. Shakespeare had the right idea, if you ask me."

Brennan released a chuckle, thankful for Bernadette's easy, relaxed demeanor. "Well, I don't know if we should kill _all_ the lawyers, there are one or two that I find I am fond of."

"That is good to hear, Dr. Brennan."

"Please, Temperance."

"Alright…Temperance. Look, as soon as you know anything about Agent Booth's situation, give me a call. I'll give you my direct line and my cell, so that you won't have to go through a mediator. Do you have a pen?"

Brennan took a moment to jot Bernadette's number down on her blotter, and then thanked the other woman again for her help. They rang off, both promising to keep in touch as soon as possible.

Once that task was taken care of, Brennan resumed her assault on the phone banks of the Hoover building, trying without success to find someone who would let her know what was going on with Booth. Finally, giving into the inevitable, she packed her things up for the day and readied to leave. Before she left, Cam, Angela and Hodgins all stopped her and offered to help in any way she and Booth would need. Brennan gratefully acknowledged their offers, and wearily headed home.

B&B

After stopping at their favorite take-out place, Brennan pulled into the parking garage of their complex, not surprised to see Booth's SUV parked in its assigned spot. She knew from Charlie's partner that Booth had been picked up at home and brought in, which actually irritated her almost as much as the fact that they brought him in, in the first place. Not extending him the courtesy of voluntarily coming in for questioning was insulting, but beneath her indignation was a nauseating realization that the only reason they brought Booth in was because they didn't expect him to come on his own. They really thought that he was guilty.

Shaking her head against the dark thoughts flooding her brain, Brennan yanked the 'Sorry we missed you' note from the cable guy off the door and keyed herself into the apartment. The lights were off, and the silence was deafening to her. A wave of loneliness washed over her as her gaze fell on the coffee table, where Booth's badge and wallet lay abandoned. She was so consumed by her dark thoughts that she never heard the door open behind her.

"Bones?"

She whipped around, dropping her bag and throwing herself into his arms. She breathed deeply, taking in his unique scent and letting his presence calm her like nothing else today had been able to do. Booth made slow, lazy circles on her back and whispered nonsensical words of comfort in her ear as he held her. Slowly, the tension seeped out of Brennan's body and she allowed herself to relax.

Booth held Brennan close and gave her the reassurance that he himself was so desperately in need of. He could feel her shaking slowly come to a stop, and it brought him a peace he hadn't felt since Charlie and Greg had shown up at his door that morning to bring him in for questioning. Eventually, he pulled back a bit to look into Brennan's eyes. "Bones? We need to talk."

Nodding, Brennan leaned up and pressed her lips to his, the soft touch gradually turning passionate as she poured every single ounce of love and faith she had in him into her kisses. Booth was powerless to resist, and he followed her mesmerized, as she led him, walking backwards, to their bedroom.


	6. Chapter 6

**~Special shout-out to TheValiumSofa and SkoleBone for giving this a read-through and helping me with Brennan's voice. I appreciate your help, ladies!**  
**~And as always, thanks to Smurfs for not making fun of my hopeless shipper heart. :)**

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Chapter Six

_"Bones? We need to talk."_

_Nodding, Brennan leaned up and pressed her lips to his, the soft touch gradually turning passionate as she poured every single ounce of love and faith she had in him into her kisses. Booth was powerless to resist, and he followed her mesmerized, as she led him, walking backwards, to their bedroom._

_B&B_

A long, desperation-filled hour later, Brennan curled into Booth's chest and tried to calm her frantically beating heart. When Booth had first come in the door, she thought the nightmare they had been living that entire day was over before it ever really got started. But later, in the middle of their lovemaking, while he was hovering over her and looking in her eyes with his usual intensity, she saw it. A flash of panic…insecurity…and something else dark and scary that she couldn't define. Now, in the afterglow of their loving, she knew they had to talk. Even if she couldn't feel the tension still coiled in his muscles, she could see it on his face.

"Booth?"

"Yeah, Bones."

"What happened? Why were you released?"

Booth took a moment to respond, tangling his hand in her hair and wrapping a strand around his fingers. "They're still investigating. There's…evidence. Things they found at the scene that tie the murder to me."

Brennan sat up and regarded him carefully. "How could there be sufficient forensic evidence when you most certainly did not commit this crime? I don't-" She was cut off as Booth grabbed her face in both hands and kissed her roughly.

"Thank you, Bones." He whispered against her lips when they broke for air.

Brennan's brow furrowed in confusion. "Why are you thanking me? There was never a moment where I suspected that you could have done this. And I know that you would support me in the same way, so there is really no reason-"

"They really think I did this, Temperance." His eyes were focused at a spot over her shoulder, staring at nothing. "They actually believe that I could hunt someone down, hogtie them, shoot them between the eyes and lock their body in a trunk. Guys I've worked with…worked for, supervised…for sixteen years, Bones. They all think I did this."

"Booth, I am not the only person who knows that you didn't do this, Charlie told me that he believes you to be innocent as well." She grasped his hand tightly, rubbing slow circles on his palm.

Booth shook his head. "Maybe…maybe he didn't at one time. But now…the evidence is piling up and I have no answer for any of it. I can't even give myself an alibi for that night."

Brennan looked pained. "Where were you? Charlie asked me, and I…you told me you had a meeting, but you didn't specifically say what kind of meeting."

Booth saw the lack of guile in her questioning gaze, and it made him all the more resolved to tell her exactly what he had done that night. No longer fearing her reaction, he reached over to his bedside table and pulled out a wooden box that Brennan had seen many times. She knew he kept some of the smaller, more sentimental trinkets he owned in the cedar case, and her curiosity increased tenfold.

"I had planned on going to a meeting, I didn't lie about that." He ran his fingers reverently over the intricate design on the lid of the box. "I was…conflicted. There was something that I felt like I needed to do, and I was scared to do it. So I called you, and when I told you I was going to a meeting, I had every intention of going."

Brennan nodded. "What made you change your mind?"

"You." He smiled slightly. "The reason…why I was so conflicted…" He opened the lid on the box and pulled out a smaller box, this one covered in black velvet. Brennan sucked in a breath but managed to keep her face impassive as Booth flipped the lid open with his thumb and turned the open box towards her. "More than anyone else, you know what a big deal this little piece of jewelry is to me. And I had promised myself that I would never offer this to another woman, because the third time is most definitely not the charm, you know?"

All Brennan could do was continue to nod in response, desperately beating back the urge to look at the ring in the box Booth held out to her. She held eye contact with him, urging him wordlessly to go on.

"Yeah. So, my promise seemed like a really stupid idea whenever I thought about you, how you've committed to this relationship…how you always seem to love me no matter what happens. But I needed time to think before I put myself out there one final time. I decided that a meeting was not the place to really work everything out in my head, so I went for a walk on the Mall. And I thought about the two women to whom I had offered this very same thing, and how each of them had turned me down for very different reasons. And I'm not going to lie, both rejections hurt. Badly. But as I went over each of those relationships, I came to a few realizations."

"And?" Brennan kept her eyes on him, terrified to look down at his hand, where the open box still rested.

"Are you sure you want to hear this? Because I need to be completely honest and it might…be difficult."

Brennan scoffed. "When have I ever wanted you to be anything but honest with me? The truth might be painful, but it has brought us here, together, and I can't be anything but grateful for that."

"You're amazing." Booth kissed her again, steeling himself for the rest of the conversation. "And I am going to say I'm sorry in advance, even though I know you already know." At her encouraging nod, he continued. "Anyway…you know what happened with Rebecca. My biggest mistake was asking her after we found out she was pregnant. I know she was scared of losing who she was, but I think she was a little resentful that it took two lines on a home pregnancy test to spur me into action. And she was right to refuse me. Instead of friendly, committed single parents sharing custody, we would be divorced and bitter and Parker would always be in the middle of that failure. As resentful as I was for a very long time, I'm glad in the end."

"What about Hannah?" This was the one Brennan still felt slightly ill talking about. She had trusted the other woman to give Booth what he needed when she herself couldn't, and although she was glad of the outcome in the end, she was still angry at the pain that Booth was forced to endure yet again.

"Ugh." Booth rubbed a hand over his face. "I am so sorry about that, Bones."

Brennan shook her head. "Please don't do that, Booth."

"Yeah. I just…here's the thing. I talked myself into thinking that Hannah was the one. You know this, but I was miserable in Afghanistan, and she was…saying she saved me is too cliché, but she did give me something I needed. I…that night, when you told me that you'd made a mistake turning me down, I felt like I had to prove something when I told you that I was with Hannah, that she wasn't a consolation prize. And yeah, I decided to propose on a whim. But I needed to ask her, I needed that validation like I can't even explain. It was as if I was saying, "See? I turned down this wonderful woman for a good reason." And that wasn't fair to her, to me and it certainly wasn't fair to you. And I am so thankful that she was smart enough to say no. Both Hannah and Rebecca were right, and I was wrong."

"Booth…" Brennan wrapped her hand around his bicep, squeezing softly. "You didn't do anything wrong."

He looked into her eyes, and seeing her utter belief in what she was saying gave him the courage he needed to continue. "Yeah, I realize now that I needed to propose to them, Bones. The picture, the one I had set in my head as everything I ever wanted, was never going to be complete without it. But with you?" He smiled and took both her hands, holding them tightly. "With you, I _want_ to marry you. I want that so, so much. But the thing is…I don't _need_ it. I am perfectly content to live with you and love with you and maybe raise a child with you…but I don't need to be married to do that. You are enough. Just you."

Brennan nodded again, tears in her eyes, and leaned up to kiss him, passionately and fully. When they broke apart, Booth took the velvet box, closed it with a snap, and placed it back in the cedar box, which he returned to it's place in his bedside table. Brennan looked from Booth to the table, and back again, confusion marring her features.

"But…aren't you going to give me the ring? I assumed that…" For a moment she looked mortified, as if she had misspoken, but Booth was quick to reassure her.

"No, no…Bones, that ring is yours, especially now that I know without a doubt that you'll accept what I am offering." His ear-to-ear grin was enough to stop Brennan's fears. "And yes, I am going to give it to you. Someday. But…with everything hanging over my head right now, it's not fair to you. Especially like this, here…in bed. You deserve the whole shebang…flowers, candlelight, me in front of you on one knee…all of it. And I intend on giving that to you, when the time is right."

Brennan outwardly accepted Booth's explanation for his waiting to ask her to marry him, and she knew that it was the correct course of action. But the small, still, inherently female part of her that she usually squelched couldn't help but feel a bit disappointed. Her practical nature, however, took over her internal debate and settled the matter for both sides of her. "Alright, Booth." She kissed him again, pouring all of her understanding and acceptance into what quickly turned intensely passionate. She lay back on her pillow, pulling him along for the ride. "I can wait. But until then…maybe you should remind me a few more times why I would ever want to marry you in the first place." Her saucy grin made him laugh long and loud, and when he hitched her legs around his waist and pulled her close enough to feel the beginnings of his arousal, her grin faded, replaced by a look of love and want. "Don't worry, Bones. I intend on reminding you over and over again until neither of us can walk straight."

The grin was back. "Excellent."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

After hours of avoiding the situation by way of sex, deep and meaningful relationship discussions, more sex, a dual shower that led to even more sex and one Chinese carry-out delivery, Booth and Brennan finally resigned themselves to the inevitable.

They lay in their bed on their sides facing each other. Brennan had one hand tucked under her head while the other was loosely entwined with Booth's. He had his head propped up on his fist, his eyes trained on her face unerringly.

"Fingerprints." Booth whispered, not wanting to break the quiet spell that seemed to surround them, protecting them from the rest of the world.

Brennan was shocked, but kept it out of her voice, her volume level matching his. "They found _your_ fingerprints? Where?"

"Trunk of the car. And on the driver's side door. I have no idea how they got there." Even if she wasn't already convinced of his innocence, the honesty in his eyes was impossible to miss.

"There has to be a logical explanation. Latent print identification is the only exact forensic science, and is almost impossible to fabricate." Brennan sighed. "I just wish there were some way that my lab could take a look at the evidence."

"I know, but since I have such a close relationship with the Jeffersonian, and an even closer relationship with certain people employed by the lab…" He gave her a soft smile at that. "Any evidence you could uncover would be immediately disregarded."

"I realize that. But it doesn't change the fact that I want to get my hands on it." She sighed. "What else do they have?"

"Charlie said they have DNA evidence, but he wouldn't tell me what it was. And the bullet matches a Glock 9mm. I gave them my gun, but I know for a fact that it won't match."

Brennan's brow furrowed. "Is that all they have? It seems awfully thin, considering that you are a highly-decorated FBI agent."

"Probably why they let me leave in the first place. But..." He looked up at the ceiling for a moment, and to Brennan's surprise he actually looked embarrassed. "They suspended me with pay until further notice."

She brushed a hand along his chest, offering what little comfort she could. "I'm sorry, Booth. I know how much that hurts you."

"Yeah. But, I mean…it's not the work. It's not even the pay, it's the idea that they actually believe I'm capable of…" The pain on his face was crushing her heart, so she did the only thing she could think of to comfort him.

Pulling herself to her knees, Brennan leaned over and wrapped her arms around Booth's shoulders, holding him close as she ran her fingers through the short hairs on the back of his neck. She whispered words of support and love in his ear as he clutched her as if she were his sole life preserver in the middle of the perfect storm. Shudders wracked his frame and she simply held him tighter in response. Long moments later, Booth pulled himself together and leaned back to look Brennan in the face. Her tears, instead of hurting him more, actually brought him a measure of peace he had been searching for all day. He reached a finger up to swipe at the wetness on her cheeks and smiled. If he had nothing else left in this world, his son and the love of this woman in front of him would always be enough. And that knowledge gave him the strength to continue his account of his nightmarish day.

Brennan, for her part, listened carefully to Booth's description of his interrogation, trying to find something that might strike her as inconsistent with what the FBI believed was a clear-cut case.

"They seemed pretty convinced that the DNA was conclusive. And the fingerprints…I don't know, Bones. I asked about the car, but they wouldn't show me a picture. Standard interrogation technique. Give the suspect as little information as possible to avoid inadvertently giving them the means for corroboration." He sighed heavily. "Charlie and Greg ran the interview exactly as I would have, I can't fault them for that. And it is a hell of a lot of evidence. I suppose I should consider myself lucky that I'm not in lockup tonight waiting for you to get me a lawyer."

"I called a lawyer this morning after I left the Hoover. Hodgins recommended her. Bernadette Edwards."

Booth smiled despite himself. "Ah, yeah…good. Bernie is a vicious bitch in the courtroom." At Brennan's raised eyebrows, he shook his head. "Sorry, Bones. But she would take it as a compliment, believe me."

"You've met her?"

"No, but I know her by reputation. And really, if there's such a thing as an honest defense attorney, she would probably be the closest there was. The AD's office calls her Bernie the Dodo."

"Dodo?" Brennan was confused.

"Yeah, because she's extinct."

Brennan's head tilted to the side in thought. "I like that. Although after looking into her background, I was already comforted by her record. She is very, very good, Booth."

"Oh, I know. I am sure that even Caroline would approve of your choice. I know she's beaten her quite a few times, and you know how much Caroline Julian hates to lose." Booth rolled off the bed and reached for his long-discarded boxers. "Of course, if this goes to trial Bernie won't have to worry about that."

"Why?"

"Caroline's already recused herself."

"_Sua sponte_."

"Yeah." Booth looked at her curiously. "You know that's the Rangers motto? 'Of their own accord'."

"Yes, I did know that. I know quite a lot, you know." Brennan smiled.

"I am fully aware of that fact." Booth crossed his arms, still standing in the middle of their bedroom. "I was surprised that Caroline stepped back so quickly, though."

"It only makes sense, Booth. We've gotten her quite a few convictions with our work. She probably wanted to make sure everything went by the book so your case wasn't damaged by impropriety. And personally, she likes you very much."

"So she said, once she was pressed into it." Booth let another smile cross his face quickly, and then it was gone again. "She was the one who gave me a ride home earlier, actually. Bitched me out the whole way, but I could still feel the love."

Brennan laughed lightly, following Booth out of bed and reaching for her robe absently. "I think she might even like me, actually. Which is…sort of disconcerting, really. I find dealing with Caroline Julian more satisfying when I am trying to avoid her ire."

Booth led the way out of the bedroom, heading for the kitchen to scrounge up some food. Both had foregone dinner in lieu of more important pursuits, and their stomachs were complaining loudly. "Caroline does like you, Bones. She keeps reminding me how I'm not good enough for you."

"Booth!" She pushed him as he crossed the threshold into the kitchen, making him stumble slightly. "Don't ever say anything like that again, alright?"

Laughing, Booth turned and backed away from her, hands extended with palms out. "Hey, watch it there, Badass Bones! You could injure someone with those lethal weapons you call hands, and-"

Brennan opened her mouth to refute, yet again, his recently assigned nickname for her when she was stopped cold by a hard, loud knock at the door. She paled visibly, while Booth's eyes slid shut in defeat. Without even looking, they both knew who was interrupting their quiet evening.


	8. Chapter 8

**~Sorry for the long delay. I promise, I'm not abandoning this one. :)**

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Chapter Eight

Much to his surprise, Booth kept calm when Charlie and Greg entered the apartment with a warrant for his arrest. Brennan, on the other hand, immediately abandoned the cool, rational scientist facade and began yelling at the two obviously uncomfortable agents.

"You…you are both unbelievable!" Brennan picked up the closest thing to hand, one of Booth's discarded shoes, and threw it square at Agent Roberts, who just managed to duck the flying projectile. "You both know that Booth would never, _never_ murder someone in cold blood, and yet here you are…_here! In our home!_ Claiming that you know he killed…that he…." Brennan shook her head, angry and frustrated at herself for losing her words along with her temper.

"Bones." Booth's voice was calm and soothing. "Let them do their jobs, alright?" He glanced at his colleagues, both nodding in tandem to his unspoken request. "Come on; let's go get me something to wear so I don't have to parade around the Hoover in my shorts."

"But Booth…this is unacceptable! You've given blood and sweat and a piece of your soul for this country and for justice and _this is how they repay you?_" Booth wrapped his arm around Brennan's shoulders as he maneuvered her towards the bedroom, throwing an apologetic look to the men still standing at their front door. He was flabbergasted at Brennan's reaction, but a small part of him was relieved at her outburst, knowing that someone as loyal and dedicated and passionate as Bones was in his corner, and believed in him unequivocally.

Once in the relative privacy of their bedroom, Booth pulled Brennan into a tight embrace, their short, nervous breathing immediately syncing into slow, measured breaths as they tried to comfort each other in earnest. Brennan buried her face in his chest, inhaling his scent and committing it to memory. Booth unknowingly followed Brennan's lead, burying his face in her hair and absorbing as much of her strength and love as he could in what short time they had left.

When they finally parted, Brennan wiped an errant tear before giving Booth a quick kiss. She turned and began looking for something to wear as he followed suit. Booth briefly contemplated shaving, but decided that he didn't give a damn what he looked like and it probably wouldn't matter one way or the other. Once they were both dressed, Brennan grabbed Booth one more time and joined their lips, kissing him with an intensity he hadn't felt from her since the first time they'd made love. He let his tongue and lips and hands that were roaming her curves tell her everything she needed to know about his feelings for her, and she responded in kind, clutching his t-shirt tightly in both hands as they said what both hoped was not a final goodbye.

Their impromptu make-out session was interrupted by Charlie, calling for Booth from the living room. With a dark look, Booth released Brennan and grabbed his wallet from the dresser before taking her hand and leading her to the door.

Charlie and his partner had already decided that Booth wouldn't need to be handcuffed, so when they opened the door and gestured for Booth to lead them out, he took one more look at Brennan, told her to call Bernadette and then Jared, and turned and walked out without a second glance. Brennan watched from the doorway as they entered the elevator, Booth standing in front of the other two agents with his hands fisted at his sides as the doors began to close. Just before he disappeared from her sight, Booth caught Brennan's eye and quietly mouthed his love for her. Then, with the soft whoosh of door meeting door, he was gone.

B&B

"Temperance, I can't tell you how sorry I am to hear that they arrested Agent Booth." Bernadette Edwards sank down into the chair behind her desk and shook her head. "I've already submitted my name as his attorney of record, and I am heading down to the Hoover as soon as you and I hang up."

Brennan ran her hand through her hair as she leaned against the counter in the kitchen, trying to stop her thoughts from racing in a bad direction. "Booth knows that I've retained your services, and he is expecting you. I-" The thought of Booth sitting in that interrogation room, surrounded by agents who at one time were his friends, made her breath catch in her chest. Clearing her throat, she continued. "Because of the identity of the victim and how he is connected to us, I assume you will want to interview me as soon as you can."

Brennan heard a scraping noise that she could only assume was Bernadette pushing her chair away from her desk. "Tell you what, why don't you tell me now so that when I go into that interview room I'm not blindsided?" Her brusque language sounded out of sync with her mellow tone of voice, but Brennan appreciated the effort. With little preamble, she described her foster care experience to Booth's lawyer, only pausing when the other woman interjected a question or exclamation of disbelief.

"Jesus, Temperance." Bernadette breathed, awestruck. "How have they not yet made a Lifetime movie about you?"

"I don't know what that means." Brennan sighed. "In any case, as Booth would say, it is what it is. Now, how long will it take you to get to Booth?"

Bernadette laughed lightly. "I am already in the Hoover parking structure, Temperance. Another twenty minutes and Booth will be admirably represented by the best damn defense attorney on the East Coast."

"Good." Brennan didn't even bother to dispute the validity of the lawyer's claim of her prowess simply because she needed to believe that Bernadette's hubris was well-founded in truth. "Please, could you…just, tell Booth that I…"

Striding to the visitor's desk to claim a badge, Bernadette heard the heartache in Brennan's unfinished plea. "Don't worry; I'll make sure he gets your message. Now, you go do what you have to do and let me get your partner out of this mess. Alright?"

"I suppose I don't have a choice, do I?" Brennan sighed.

"I'll call you as soon as I finish. I promise. I will talk to you soon, Temperance."

Brennan sat back on the sofa and contemplated her next course of action. She knew she had to call Jared, and then Rebecca…she simply didn't relish having to explain the entire story to either of them, especially Parker's mother. So instead, she flipped open her phone and pressed her speed dial number three.

B&B

Seeley Booth was pissed off. At first, his ire was directed at the agents who came in to grill him again and again, repeating the same questions over and over. Once he'd settled into the interrogation, he realized that the looks Charlie and Greg were passing between each other were not those of the good cop/bad cop variety. Something was wrong with their case, and they were trying to get Booth to admit something out of desperation. Now he was just angry because they wouldn't tell him what the hell was going on.

His answer came almost two hours later, as a tall, raven-haired woman entered the interview room with an air of ownership Booth could only sit back and admire. Both of Booth's formerly-confident colleagues stood and stared as Bernadette moved to her client's side of the table and held her hand out to Charlie with what Booth could only describe as a furious look on her face.

"One of you two need to hand me the keys to these handcuffs right now." She waved her hand for good measure, until Charlie shook his head and handed the attorney what she requested. She leaned down and freed Booth from the restrictions, watching carefully as he rubbed his wrists with a sigh. At first Booth had been brought in on his own power, no handcuffs needed. But once his superiors caught wind of his lack of restraint, they decided that is was better for everyone involved if they took everything precisely by the book…and that included the regulation handcuffs in the interrogation room.

Turning on the other agents, Bernadette cocked an eyebrow. "Now, does someone want to tell me why my client was still sitting here, _in restraints no less_, when you already have the evidence you need that his alibi has been corroborated?"

Booth stared, slack jawed, at Bernadette. "What? I don't-"

She laid a comforting hand on his shoulder and smiled. "Just hold on for a moment." Addressing Charlie and Greg again, the smile dropping off her face so fast it was as if it hadn't been there at all. "I assume you have seen the security footage from several vantage points on the Mall, clearly showing Agent Booth walking around on April the eleventh?"

Charlie shook his head. "If you had seen the footage, you would know that there is not one single shot of Booth's face on any of those security tapes. The crowds around the man you are claiming is Booth made that impossible."

Bernie snorted derisively and sat down next to Booth and opened her leather-bound notebook. "Agent Burns, you and I both know that the man in those shots is Agent Booth." She turned to her client. "I assume they read you your rights?"

Booth's face paled slightly, before he brought wide, disbelieving eyes to the two men sitting across from him. "I…no, actually. I didn't realize it until now, but no. I was not Mirandized."

Charlie and Greg blanched, the look intensified by what sounded like a chair hitting the glass from the other side in the observation area beyond.

"Really, now…" Bernadette raised an eyebrow, keeping everything else on her face relaxed and calm. "You did not inform him that whatever he said inside this room, to any _law enforcement officers…_" She pointed at the two agents. "Could be used against him in a court of law? Because that seems like grounds to have my client released immediately."

Booth shook his head and leaned back in his chair. He tried to continue to radiate an air of calm, knowing that any cockiness would be taken in a completely different context. He had been so shocked at being dragged into the Hoover on murder charges, that the fact his rights had not been read never crossed his mind.

Charlie tried to recover desperately. "Booth knows his rights. He could have asked for his lawyer anytime."

Bernadette made a noise that Booth could only describe as a snort. "Agent Booth, were you, at any time during this interrogation, offered the services of an attorney"

Booth shook his head.

"And Agent Booth…did you, at any time during this interrogation; feel that you could leave this room at any time, of your own volition?"

Booth held up the discarded handcuffs. "No, I did not."

"Agent Booth is well aware of his rights as a law enforcement officer, Ms. Edwards." Agent Roberts had finally found his voice, although it was tinged in frustration and minor embarrassment.

"Have you ever heard of Yarborough v. Alvarado, Agent Roberts?" The lawyer had begun to collect the paperwork in front of Booth, then handed him his jacket.

Greg shook his head dumbly, joined reluctantly by Charlie.

"During the course of a custodial interrogation, an interviewee is legally required to be Mirandized, even if said interviewee has previous experience with the legal process. And as such, I will be taking my client with me when I leave, due to the egregious failings of the agents in charge. You will be required to resubmit a warrant for his arrest, and you will contact me, at my office, and I will make arrangements for Agent Booth to surrender for questioning on his own power. Until then, we are leaving." Bernadette gestured towards the door, urging Booth to rise and follow. Reaching the door, she turned one more time. "And I imagine that your pissed off bosses behind that glass are just dying to speak with you. Have a great day." And with that, she pulled Booth from the room.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

Brennan sat on her sofa staring a metaphorical hole in her cell phone as it rested, annoyingly silent, on the coffee table. It had been almost an hour since Bernadette had called her, crowing triumphantly, about having the evidence that would secure Booth's release…but there had been nothing since, and Brennan was getting anxious. So it was understandable that when she heard the quiet rapping on the door, she literally flung herself at the doorknob, smiling widely until she saw that her visitor was most definitely not Booth.

"When were you going to tell me?" Max asked as he casually strolled into the living room, taking a seat on Booth's recliner and waiting for Brennan to catch up and join him.

Brennan rolled her eyes, closed the door with a huff, and joined her father, returning to her seat on the sofa. "I wasn't aware that I needed to inform you of anything."

"Don't be like that, Temperance. I heard Booth was arrested, but I couldn't find out why. For once, the feebs are actually keeping their mouths shut."

"I wish you wouldn't use that nickname for the Bureau, Dad." She took a deep breath at his answering grin, trying very hard not to punch him in the face. "And Booth was arrested for murder, but he is being released as we speak."

"Why the hell would they arrest Booth of all people for murder?" Max was, to say the least, shocked. "That man is practically a boy scout! Who do they say he killed?"

Brennan shook her head. "Dad…I really don't want to get into this right now. Booth didn't kill anyone, that's all you need to know."

Max noticed the twitch in her jaw and decided, against his better judgment, to press her a little. "Was it another woman? Someone they think he was seeing on the side?"

"No!" Brennan stood up angrily and pointed a rigid finger in her father's face. "Booth would never cheat on me! It was not even a woman, it was just…" She realized he was trying to get her to admit something, and she forced herself to pull back. Sitting back down on the sofa and affecting a blank look, she continued. "It was just a murder victim, no one special."

Max nodded, irritating Brennan more with his seemingly calm demeanor. "So they arrested a highly decorated FBI agent just for the sport of it?"

"Let it go, Dad. Booth is being released; this was all a big mistake. There's nothing to tell."

"You know I'm going to find out eventually, Tempe."

"Leave her alone, Max." Booth said quietly from his spot at the open apartment door.

"Booth!" Brennan jumped up and threw herself into his arms, ignoring the soft 'oof' he released when he caught her. "I thought…"

Booth held her close and leaned in to breathe in her scent, finally feeling settled for the first time since they'd woken up that morning. "It's okay, Bones. Bernie is taking care of everything. I'm not going back there if she has anything to say about it."

Brennan nodded against his shoulder, letting herself relax finally. She leaned back enough to give him a kiss, and then released him slowly. They shared a look that spoke volumes, and then he led her back to the sofa, where they sat down to confront Max. Together.

B&B

Booth finally released the breath he had been holding the entire time that Brennan was telling her father the story of how she had come to know Dale McInerney. He wanted to feel sympathy for the old crook when tears sprang to his eyes as Brennan described her three days in the trunk of the man's car, but at this point all Booth was feeling was angry. Yes, Max had left his children because he thought it was the right thing to do, and Booth knew that it was Christine that had pushed a resistant Max to go for their kids' safety, but it still burned him up in ways he didn't have the vocabulary to describe.

Brennan, on the other hand, had long forgiven her father for the past in favor of a better relationship in the here and now, and couldn't help herself from reaching out and taking Max's hand, squeezing tightly. "This is not your fault, Dad. This is Dale's fault, and only his. Rationally speaking, we can never know what the ultimate results of our actions will be, and I have accepted the fact that you and Mom did what you thought was best for me and Russ."

Max swiped at his eyes and nodded. "I appreciate that, sweetheart. But it doesn't change the fact that if we had stayed, or taken you kids with us…"

"Max," Booth interrupted. "What ifs and I should haves never accomplish anything. I think Bones just wants to move on, okay? Right now, we have bigger fish to fry. Namely, who is trying to frame me for this murder."

Brennan nodded. "I might have some ideas about that, actually." Pulling out a notebook, she flipped to the first page, where her neat handwriting was visible on every line. "At first I thought I would need to go back and think about everyone we've ever sent to prison. But that list is rather long, so…" She shared a proud but quick smile with Booth before continuing. "In any case, I realized that everything centers around Dale. Not just anyone would know about what happened, and it finally occurred to me that the only viable suspect is Colleen."

Max shook his head slightly, confused. "Who in the hell is Colleen?"

Booth slid his arm around Brennan's shoulders and kissed her temple. "Brilliant as always, Bones." Addressing Max, he explained. "Colleen is the foster kid who lived with Bones while she was with Dale, and refused to testify against him. She even claimed that Temperance was lying when she described the abuse."

Brennan leaned into Booth a little more, still shaky from reliving the past. "Yes, Colleen was very close to Dale. I suspected that they were intimate, but I was too scared of what he might do to say anything. And she seemed…happy. She never had to do chores and was rarely punished, and then only by Dale's wife."

"Sounds like a damn viable suspect to me." Max agreed. "Think you can find her, Booth?"

"Actually, Dad…" Brennan ventured a glance at Booth before continuing. "Booth can't do anything right now because of the investigation. But you can."

Max stood suddenly and held out his hand. "Give me everything you've got on her. I still have some contacts…" He looked pointedly at Booth. "Legit contacts. I will find her fair and square."

Brennan gave her father all the information she could remember about Colleen, and then accepted his kiss goodbye before watching Booth walk him to the door. Once they were out of earshot, Booth leaned over to whisper to the man who was essentially his father-in-law.

"Max, you be careful. You got me?"

Max nodded, stepping into the hallway. "You know I will, Booth. And hey…we'll get you out of this, alright?"

"Yeah." He looked back at Brennan. "Listen, you call me when you know anything. Alright?"

"I will. You just worry about yourself. Let her take care of you for a change." He smiled and was gone before Booth could even begin to lodge a protest.

Closing the door with a shake of his head, Booth turned to Brennan. "Man, he moves fast."

"Well, when you've spent most of your life running from the law, you develop that ability." Brennan's eyes widened as she winced and shook her head at herself. "That was a mean thing to say."

Booth sat down next to her and pulled her close. "You're entitled, Bones. You may have forgiven him, but that doesn't mean it doesn't still hurt a little." He looked down into her tired eyes. "Sometimes, maybe even a lot?"

"Yes. But only sometimes, now." She snuggled close, letting his presence soothe away all the anxiety and worry of the last few days. She used to wonder how Booth had that uncanny ability to make everything better simply by being near, but not anymore. Now, she just accepted the comfort he offered without question. She knew that, in the days and weeks to come, she was going to need to rely on that facet of their relationship more than ever.

"Ready for bed?" Booth asked, leaning over to begin collecting their glasses and discarded plates.

"Mmmhmmm." She reached out and grabbed his wrist, stilling his movements. "Bed, yes. But not sleep."

Smiling widely, Booth unceremoniously dropped the dishes and grabbed Brennan's other hand, pulling her up and into his arms. "Excellent idea. Sleep is entirely overrated anyway."


	10. Chapter 10

_I apologize that this update was so long in coming. I am suffering through what has to be the worst case of writer's block in human history. (So much so that I tend to exaggerate it LOL) In any case, it's not going to make me go all Sylvia Plath or anything, but it is pissing me off...which is not always better. ;) I am seeing a light at the end of the tunnel, and this chapter is a result of that light._

_Thank you for being so patient with me. I appreciate it so much._

_~NM_

* * *

Chapter Ten

When the door opened and flooded the seedy bar with natural light, the few patrons scattered throughout each winced at the intrusion into their self-imposed hideout from reality. The newcomer scanned the weathered tables, the cheap stools and the truly ancient jukebox, looking for his contact. Once he located his old friend, he crossed the scuffed, filthy floor to the bar, taking the closest stool and signaling for a drink. When the bartender acknowledged him with a surprised eyebrow lift, he smiled slightly and threw a twenty on the counter.

"Max, what the hell brings you to this hellhole? I thought you were an upstanding citizen now."

Max nodded. "Bet your ass I am. Just looking for someone, Mikey."

The large, tattooed man nodded. "You lookin' for someone in partic'lar, or someone who can find that someone?"

"Yep."

"Get yourself into trouble again, Max?"

"Not me. My girl."

Mikey huffed out a breath. "I thought she was some fancy-pants science-type. How'd she get into a mess she needs your help with?"

Max shook his head slightly. "Well, not really her…not exactly. My son-in-law."

"The cop? She finally shame your family name and agree to marry him?"

"Might as well have, but no. Not yet."

"What's his trouble?"

"Someone's setting him up."

"Blackmail?"

"Payback."

"Worse than blackmail."

"You're not kidding. They're framing him up for murder."

"Shit."

"Couldn't have said it better myself."

Mikey looked down the bar to his right, eyes tight on the regular boozer clinging to his stool on the corner. He knew, from years of experience, that no matter how drunk Frankie looked, his hearing was as sharp as it ever was…and he was not known for his discretion. "Tell you what, Max…let's give the counter to Marie for a few and go back to the office." He waved at his eternally tired-looking waitress, indicating that she take his place behind the bar, before reaching to lift the pass and allow his old friend through. "Marie, darlin'…Max and I'll be in the back. Holler if you need me."

"Sure thing, Mikey." The bottle-dyed redhead followed Max through the pass and picked up a rag, wiping down the area directly in front of where Max had been sitting. "Take your time."

"Thanks, Marie." Max nodded at the woman, accepting her returning nod and following the hulking bartender to the back room.

B&B

Booth flipped off the television and settled back on the sofa, sighing in frustration. Bernadette had called first thing that morning to let him know that the DA had declined to resubmit the charges against Booth until the FBI had more definitive evidence, a move that relieved and surprised him, but his lawyer seemed nonplussed.

"Seeley, he knows you. He understands what they are up against in trying to pin this murder on you, regardless of the minimal forensic evidence against you." Bernadette was uncharacteristically soft-spoken in her reassurance.

Booth chuffed a disbelieving breath. "Yeah, right. They're probably just waiting to find a way to somehow prove that the man in the video from the Mall _isn't_ me. Even though even Charlie knows it is."

"Hey. Quit that. I am already sending the video to the best damn forensic artist in the country…or at least the second best, as recommended by the best. Angela swears this guy is almost as good as she is, and he has no ties to you or Temperance. He'll have the CD's today, and we'll have your alibi soon."

"Anything can happen, right?" He didn't sound convinced.

"Sure it can. Even the good things." She sighed. "Look, Seeley…I got the impression from the DA that he really, really doesn't like you for this. He said it looked way too neat, too set-up. He said he was feeling pressured to do something in order to keep a look of propriety, no favoritism. And let's not even discuss the fact that you having worked with the best forensic team in the world should have taught you a thing or two about not leaving your fingerprints and hair as evidence at a crime scene. Doug agrees that it's hinky."

"Hinky…" Booth drew the word out, letting it roll around his mouth for a moment. "Yeah. Hinky." He sat up as Brennan walked into the room and gave him a measured, questioning stare. "Look, Bernie…I appreciate the call, and the support. I do. Just…let me know as soon as you hear anything. Okay?"

After hanging up, Booth found himself caught in Brennan's gaze. He suddenly felt tired and indescribably sad. "What, Bones?"

Taking a seat on the coffee table in front of him, Brennan smiled. "You are trying to be negative."

"Yeah, well…I'm feeling entitled today. I don't like not having any control over my own life, Bones. You know that."

"You are a control freak, that's true." She tried to inject some levity into a conversation that she could see was veering very close to one of Booth's dark corners.

Half-smiling, Booth nodded. "Because if I am in control, I know things are done correctly." He raised an eyebrow in her direction. "You of all people should appreciate that."

"I am not a control freak!" Her indignation was half-hearted at best, considering the wide grin that spread across her face.

"You're worse than I am, Bones. Admit it."

Brennan stood and settled next to him on the sofa. "I admit nothing." She said as she took his hand and laced their fingers together.

Booth expected nothing less from her. Not quite moved on from the feeling of melancholy settling over him, he leaned back and rested his head against the sofa back, and turned toward Brennan. "Bones, do you ever still think about…you know, having a baby?"

He didn't miss the quick flash of pain in her eyes as he asked his question, but he knew she wasn't hiding it intentionally. They had talked about the child they'd lost the year before, when their relationship was relatively new, but never since. Booth wondered on occasion whether her feelings on the matter had changed, but could never seem to find the right time to bring it up. But now, in his current mood, the words just popped out…and he couldn't find it in him to be sorry about it.

Brennan knew that this subject was bound to come up again, and as much as it hurt to talk about, she thought that maybe it was time. "I…yes, from time to time. I don't feel as sad as I used to, and even though you know I hate psychology, I believe that is an indicator that I might be more amenable to discussing possibly…."

"You feel up to talking about trying to have a baby. I get it." He squeezed her hand tightly, knowing that her overly-clinical tone was her defense mechanism against painful emotions she'd rather ignore. Not that he blamed her, who actually liked dealing with pain?

"Yes. I meant what I said when we found out I was pregnant last year, Booth. I would like to have a baby with you." She tipped her head forward enough to catch his lips in a soft kiss. "And I know that my window of optimum viability for conception is narrowing, so it's something to seriously think about."

"Yeah. After all this is over with." Booth closed his eyes, fighting the despair that started to wash over him again. "Another fantastic side-effect of this mess. We can't even start a family when we want to."

"Booth…" Resting her head on his tense shoulder, she stroked the top of his hand with her finger absently, comfortingly. "This is all going to work out." At his derisive snort, she shook her head. "No, I believe that, truly. We fight for justice everyday…we trust in the system in order to put criminals away. We have to continue to believe that the same can be said for the system ensuring that the wrong man…the innocent man, like you, isn't unjustly accused." She sat up and looked him in the eye. "Otherwise, what are we doing?"

Booth smiled and kissed her again. "As always, you're right Bones. Now how about Wong Foo's for dinner? I'm suddenly starving."

Brennan agreed, staying on the sofa to watch Booth head to their bedroom to change his shirt. A small part of her worried about what she wasn't telling him at that moment, but she knew that he had enough to worry about and she was going to be the last one to give him another burden to bear. With a resigned sigh, she rose to change her own clothes and ready for a nice evening out with her partner.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

Cameron stared into the shattered mirror with a scowl. After her contact at the DA's office informed her that the District Attorney was declining to press further charges against Agent Booth, she had gone on a rampage through her apartment, breaking a chair and her coffee pot on the way to the utter destruction that was her bathroom. Now, seeing her fractured reflection, she realized that she was losing her focus. She turned on the tap and rinsed her hands of the blood running from the cuts on her knuckles caused by her frantic beating on the mirror, trying to get her thoughts in order.

During her comprehensive research into the life of Dr. Temperance Brennan, she had discovered that while the woman had blood relatives, her most important connections were with her team at the Jeffersonian and her work partner. It was only after following Brennan home for several weeks that she realized that Seeley Booth was more than her partner, he was her live-in boyfriend…which made the choice of who to target that much easier. Never one to leave a job half-done, Cameron had looked into the personal lives of Brennan's friends as well, and knew almost as much about them as their own families did. She had been prepared for this eventuality, so finding her next target wouldn't be a problem. No problem at all.

With a determined, mirthless smile Cameron finished wrapping her hand in gauze and headed back into her messy living room. Looking at her notes, the first name on her list after Agent Booth was his son Parker, but she had already eliminated the boy as a target. She was angry and vengeful, but she was not a monster. Examining her options, one name stood out to her…and her smile changed to something even darker than before.

Perfect.

But first, she had a very important phone call to make. Her original plan might not have come to fruition, but she could still ensure that it wouldn't be completely for naught.

B&B

"Are we going to-" Booth stopped speaking when he noticed that Brennan was sitting at the kitchen table, hunched over her laptop, typing furiously. He knew she was in the homestretch of her latest novel, and a wave of guilt washed over him at the thought that everything going on might have stalled her process. Edging quietly away from her, Booth moved to the kitchen instead, opening the fridge to see what he could whip up for dinner. They had enjoyed a nice, quiet day together, filled with gentle lovemaking and easy conversation and he was loathe to see it end. Despite everything that had happened, the last few days he'd spent with Brennan in their little cocoon of privacy proved to be the one thing in this whole mess he wouldn't trade for anything.

Brennan sensed Booth's presence behind her in the kitchen, but at the moment she was on a roll with an idea for her book and didn't want to stop. Luckily, Booth had seen her in this mode plenty of times and knew that it wasn't personal when she didn't acknowledge him right away. In fact, most times he was content to let her go until she was done, one of the many advantages of being in love with your best friend. Unfortunately, Brennan's concentration was broken suddenly, not by Booth…but by her cell phone.

"I'll get it, Bones. Don't move." Booth reached to pick up the offending device when he stopped cold, the name on the display making his stomach clench. _Hannah Burley_. Booth knew she and Brennan still spoke on occasion, but never when he was around, and mostly via email. With a sigh, he grasped the corner of Brennan's phone and dangled it in front of him like a lit firecracker as he crossed the kitchen to hand it to it's owner. When Brennan saw the name on the screen, she rolled her eyes.

"Booth, it's not going to bite you. You're being dramatic." She snatched the phone from his fingers and pressed the 'answer call' button. "Brennan."

"Temperance! Oh, thank goodness!" Hannah sounded upset and slightly out of breath. "Do you have your television on? Turn to channel 6!"

"Hannah…what are you talking about?" She pulled the phone from her ear and indicated the small television sitting on their counter. "Booth, turn on channel six."

Booth furrowed his brow and threw Brennan a questioning look before turning to grab the remote. Before the screen illuminated, the sound came through loud and clear, drawing shocked gasps from them both.

…_and according to those unnamed sources, Special Agent Booth was not eliminated as a suspect for any reason other than that he is in law enforcement and has a high-profile girlfriend in Dr. Temperance Brennan, the crime novelist. Agent Booth's direct supervisor and the arresting officers were left messages by this station, but all refused to comment._

"I am a forensic anthropologist, not just a 'crime novelist'!" Brennan huffed.

"Not the time, Bones…" Booth fiddled with the remote nervously. "How the hell did they get this story?" He raked his hand through his hair in frustration, just as his own cell phone lit up like a Christmas tree. "Dammit. That's probably Hacker now."

Brennan tried to catch snippets of Booth's conversation with his boss's boss, completely forgetting the person on the other end of her phone. "Temperance? Are you still there?"

"Oh! Hannah, I'm sorry. We're just…"

"I understand, believe me." The other woman sighed. "Look, Temperance, I tried to get this story killed. My producer dragged me into his office this morning to scream at me for not, and I quote, 'using my connections', to get the exclusive on the story. I didn't even know about it until he jumped all over me."

"Do you know who did get the story?"

"No, no one is talking. Apparently, the FBI is breathing down their necks to find out who the leak was. Because Seeley wasn't being charged, they just wanted it to go away, apparently."

"That would have been ideal, yes. Booth didn't kill anyone, Hannah. The FBI is not covering for him."

"I know that, Temperance. I told my boss that there was no way Seeley Booth killed anyone in cold blood, but he thinks I have no objectivity."

"So you were expected to get the exclusive on a story you have no objectivity about? That makes no logical sense." Brennan shook her head in wonder.

"Welcome to the world of American television journalism. Happens every day and very rarely makes sense." In the background, Brennan could hear a commotion overtop of Hannah's voice. "Temperance, I need to go. My boss is calling me, but I am going to find out who leaked the story one way or another. I'll keep in touch, okay?"

"Thank you, Hannah. We appreciate that."

"And tell Seeley…" She hesitated for a moment, not sure exactly what to say. "Tell him I'm sorry. I'll try to make this right. Bye." She hung up before Brennan could answer.

Brennan stared at her phone for a moment before directing her attention back to Booth, who had just hung up himself. "Well? Was that Andrew?"

Nodding, Booth sat heavily next to her at the table. "Yeah. He's relatively sure no one at the Bureau leaked the story, but someone damn sure did…and who else would it be? No one knew but our closest friends and the FBI. And why now? Why not when I was first brought in?"

They locked eyes, the same idea entering both their heads and the exact same time. "Is it possible? She found out and…" Booth closed his eyes. "But how did she find out?"

Shaking her head, Brennan took Booth's hand in hers, rubbing her thumb along his knuckles comfortingly. "I don't know, but obviously Colleen is very resourceful. I have a feeling it is going to be very hard to find her."

B&B

The next morning, Dr. Lance Sweets entered the lobby of the J. Edgar Hoover Building and headed for the reception desk. He smiled at the female security officer, and handed over his credentials.

"Looks like it's going to be a beautiful day, Dr. Sweets." The officer commented as she recorded his entrance with a swipe of his ID in the secured card reader. "I hope you're not going to be cooped up in your office all day."

"I hope not either. I may need to head over to the Jeffersonian later today, and I might even walk instead of driving."

"That's a good idea. Enjoy the weather while you can, and all."

"Exactly."

Handing his card back, she smiled. "You're good to go, Dr. Sweets. You have a good day now."

Sweets turned and headed for the bank of elevators behind him. "Thanks. You have a good day too, Cameron." He was inside the elevator, his mind a million miles away, before the fabricated smile slipped off her face as if it had never existed.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

Brennan pushed her way through the emergency room entrance of George Washington University Hospital in a blind panic. The cryptic and hurried call she'd received from Booth telling her that Sweets had been rushed to the hospital seemed like it had happened days ago, when in reality it had only been less than forty-five minutes.

When she was finally directed to the priority waiting room, the first person she sought out was Booth. Wrapping her arms around his waist and taking in his dark, worried eyes, she could only whisper her question.

"What happened, Booth?"

Booth sniffed quietly, soft enough that only Brennan would have heard it. "He…uh, his assistant said that he collapsed right in front of her, not ten seconds after walking in the door. He was…" He made a strangled sound and closed his eyes briefly. "Convulsing. Violently. She barely kept him from hurting himself, it was so vicious. Janie called 911 and they were there quick, but…"

"What?" Brennan grasped the back of his shirt and held it in white-knuckled fear. "Were they…too late?"

Shaking his head determinedly, Booth pulled back from her slightly. "No. No, Bones….he, they-they said his heart stopped on the way to the hospital but they got it beating again. He's stable. For now. But they don't know what happened, exactly. They said it's some kind of chemical reaction. He has burns on his hand."

"Chemicals? How did he get…?" Looking into Booth's eyes, she asked the question silently and he answered with an almost-panicked stare of his own. Neither was ready to vocalize their suspicions, so Brennan settled on a soft kiss of comfort instead. She looked around the room, finally, at the other occupants. Angela, Cam and Sweets' wife Bailey were huddled in the corner of the room watching the interplay between the partners. Brennan moved across the room to the women, pulling Bailey into a fierce embrace.

"He'll be fine, Bailey. He's very strong." Brennan looked the younger woman in the eye and willed her to believe.

"I know that, I know….I just wish they would let us know something." Frustrated, Bailey swiped at her face, removing the tears she hadn't been able to stop since Booth had called her earlier with the news.

Brennan nodded in sympathy and looked around. "Where is Hodgins?"

Angela stood. "He took Sweets clothes and belongings back to the lab to see if he could pull anything off of them." She blinked back tears. "He was going crazy, wanting to help…"

Brennan shook her head. "I understand." Addressing Cam directly and Booth peripherally, she asked "Are we able to handle this investigation, if it becomes…a legal matter?"

Despite Brennan's attempt at subtlety, Bailey understood the implications of her question. With a shuddering gasp, she involuntarily clutched at her chest. "Do you think someone tried to kill Lance? Why? He's a psychologist, he's never hurt anyone…I don't understand!"

"Hey, hey…" Booth reached for Bailey and pulled her into a comforting embrace. "We don't know anything right now, alright?" He pulled her back slightly and forced her to look him in the eye. "When we know something, you'll know, okay? Right now, let's just focus some good thoughts on Sweets." He gave her a measured stare, letting her know that he meant every word he said. "Okay?"

Bailey nodded and moved back to her chair, sitting dejectedly. "I'm sorry, I just-"

"Family of Lance Sweets?"

Everyone moved together as the doctor addressed them. Brennan nodded and gestured towards Bailey. "Yes, this is his wife."

"Alright." The older man moved to take Bailey's hand. "I am Dr. Greg Andrasini. I've been asked to consult on your husband's case." He took in the assembled group. "Are these friends of yours, or…"

"They are Lance's family." Bailey stated firmly.

With a small acknowledging nod, Dr. Andrasini continued. "Good. Then let me update you. We have your husband's vitals stable for the time being. As you know, he experienced cardiac arrest in the ambulance on the way here, but the EMT's were able to restart his heart. That, in addition to the convulsions, an abnormally high level of some sort of opiate we can't identify and certain other markers, led us to believe that Dr. Sweets has been exposed to some sort of complex toxin."

The gasp from the group was immediate, and Bailey couldn't control the tears that ran down her face unbidden. "Is there…I mean, can you give him some sort of antidote?"

Dr. Andrasini sighed. "We are trying everything we can think of. I understand that one of your colleagues from the Jeffersonian is testing his clothing and belongings?" At Booth's nod, he continued. "Hopefully, he can find traces of whatever Dr. Sweets was possibly poisoned with, and we can go from there." He laid a comforting hand on Bailey's shoulder. "Right now, he is stable, so if you'd like to go in and see him, that would be fine. Two at a time, please."

Bailey thanked the doctor and looked to Booth, tears still clinging to her eyelashes and color high on her cheeks. "Would you come back with me? Please?" Her hands shook as she twisted them in front of her. "I can't…I don't want to go back there alone."

Booth looked to a nodding Brennan, pressed a quick kiss to her temple, and moved to join Bailey. "Sure, anything you need. Let's go."

Everyone else stood and watched as Booth led Bailey through the waiting room doors and into the intensive care wing, arm around her slumped shoulders.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Well, I really don't have an excuse for how long it's been on this one and I am really sorry for leaving everyone hanging. But honestly, I am consumed right now with a project I am doing with several other Bones fan fic writers, the Bonesology Writers Collective, where we are re-booting Season Six. If you're interested, check out the link to the group in my profile. You won't be sorry. **

**As for this story, I promise you I have everything plotted out, and will finish it before the end of the summer. Thanks for sticking with me on this!**

**~NM**

* * *

Chapter Thirteen

Special Agent Seeley Booth stalked into his office on the fourth floor of the J. Edgar Hoover Building and threw his car keys across the room. Without turning around, he knew that every eye in the bullpen was on him, but whether it was his outburst or the fact that he had just yesterday been arrested on murder charges, he didn't know and frankly…he didn't care. All he knew right now was that someone was out to ruin his and Bones' lives, and they were going through their friends and family to do it.

_Booth had still been sitting with Sweets' wife next to his bedside in ICU when his monitors went crazy. Doctors and nurses rushed in to answer the Code Blue, while he and Bailey were pushed aside so those responding could work unimpeded. The last thing Booth had wanted to do was worry the woman beside him even more with his own fears, but he couldn't keep the look of honest panic out of his features and he didn't think anyone, in the face of the screeching and beeping of the monitors in front of them, could have. _

_Finally, the medical team stepped back and things began to calm down. Dr. Andrasini turned and shook his head imperceptibly. "Mrs. Sweets?" He waved Bailey over, and she gripped Booth's hand like a lifeline as she moved to stand next to the bed. Dr. Andrasini lay a comforting hand on her shoulder as he looked down at Sweets' deathly quiet form on the bed. "He's stable. For now. But I have to be honest; it's getting harder and harder for us to bring him back." He paused, stricken, as Booth wrapped his arm around a suddenly limp Bailey. _

_Booth acknowledged the doctor's kind manner under the circumstances. "Thank you for your honesty." He looked down at Bailey for a moment. "What can you do? Anything?"_

_Shaking his head, Dr. Andrasini adjusted a monitor. "I wish that I could give you an answer for that. But unless your friend…?"_

"_Dr. Hodgins."_

"_Right. Unless Dr. Hodgins can find out what, exactly, we're dealing with…I just have no idea how to treat him. I can't counteract what I don't understand." To his credit, the man looked truly upset at the situation._

_Nodding and shaking the doctor's hand, Booth answered for Bailey. "We appreciate everything that you're doing. Really."_

"_I'm very sorry that I haven't been able to do more." He once again placed a hand on Bailey's shoulder. "I will check on him in an hour. Please stay as long as you like."_

_Once the doctor took his leave, Booth got Bailey to the chair next to the bed and crouched down in front of her. "Bailey…Sweets is a tough guy, okay? And Hodgins is a genius. We will get him through this, working together." He took in her blank look. "But he needs you to be tough, too. I know that's hard, but it's what we do, you know?"_

_She turned watery eyes to Booth. "For the ones we love."_

"_Yeah. The ones we love."_

Booth had left Bailey in the capable hands of Brennan, Cam and Angela and had headed directly for the Jeffersonian, where he found a harried and erratic Hodgins running between machines Booth had no hope of ever understanding. He watched as the scientist ran a frustrated hand through his hair and sighed, then finally dropped into the nearest chair, seemingly defeated. Booth then proceeded to deliver yet another pep talk he didn't feel before heading back to the Hoover to finish the paperwork on his reinstatement. He had been suspended for less than twenty-four hours and they still managed to bury him in forms. With a disgusted sigh, he fell back into his chair and started to get back to work in earnest.

B&B

"Max Keenan, you wiley bastard!" The slightly greasy-looking man standing behind the counter of the pawn shop waved a hand at his newest customer with a gap-toothed smile. "What brings you to this neck of the woods?"

Max moved slowly through the front section of the store, checking for security cameras while making it appear as though he was inspecting the merchandise. "Hey, Tiny. I'm just passing through the area and I thought I'd stop in and say hi." He reached the counter and took the other man's outstretched hand. Then, without warning, he yanked the beefy man forward, slamming his head to the cheap formica. A trickle of blood came from Tiny's pug nose and his shocked gaze settled on the calm visage of the man hovering over him.

"You listen to me closely, Tiny." Max leaned forward, his breath ghosting over the terrified man's face, causing him to clench his eyes closed tightly. "My baby girl, my Temperance, has someone causing trouble for her and her boy. Someone under the misconception that she did them wrong. Someone with _connections_ in the area that she shouldn't have. And you are the man with the best connections in the area, so…I need to know what you know." The old con man stood back up and released Tiny's hand and his death grip on his neck. The larger man wiped his nose and shook his head, amazed that someone twenty years older could get the drop on him after all this time.

"Legit or not, you're still a prick, Max." He took two steps back, making sure he was out of Max's reach. "You didn't have to jump me, man. All you had to do was ask."

Max crossed his arms in front of him. "So…I'm askin'"

"Christ." Tiny sat on the worn stool behind him and wiped his face with one large hand. "Who, exactly, are you looking for, man? I got people coming in here every day looking for something or other." He held his hands out in supplication. "I need details, Max."

Max moved to lean casually against the counter. "A woman. About 35, brunette. Looking for information on the FBI, my daughter and her partner, anything like that."

"Max, you know that if someone came in here looking for your girl you'd be the first one I'd call."

Tilting his head to the side, Max thought about that. "Yeah, okay. I believe that. But what about the-"

"Oh, holy shit!" Tiny whipped around suddenly, causing Max to reach for the gun he had tucked into his waistband. "I think I know who you're looking for!" He started pulling papers out of an old shoebox he'd dragged out from under the counter. "Yeah…yeah! A woman, about six, eight months ago! She was asking about the security at the Hoover!"

Max held a tight rein on his composure as his old friend rooted through his pseudo-filing system. "What kind of questions was she asking?"

"Uh…something about the security guards. Hang on, hang on….here!" Tiny pulled a small scrap of paper out from the middle of the disorganized pile. "Yeah, she wanted to know what kind of background checks they had to do on potential security guards at the FBI. I told her that they contract that work out, and gave her the info." He looked up hopefully. "Does that help?"

Max thought back to the conversation he'd had with Booth that morning about the kid psychologist's mysterious illness, and decided. "Yeah, Tiny. That helps a hell of a lot. You got any info on her?"

"No, but…Darryl at the security contractor would. He's my in, and I'm pretty sure she ended up getting a job from him in exchange for…you know, _other services_, if you catch my drift." Tiny grabbed a card and jotted a name and phone number down on the back. "This is his contact number. Tell him I sent you, he'll cooperate."

"Thanks, Tiny." Max turned to go, then stopped, gesturing at his friend's nose. "And I'm sorry about before."

Waving it off, Tiny smiled. "Hey, it's your baby girl. I know how it is. Forget it."

"Yeah." With a nod, Max walked quickly out of the shop.

Once he made sure his former friend had indeed gone, Tiny pulled out his untraceable, disposable phone and dialed the number he'd just given Max Keenan. "Darryl? Hey, yeah…it's Tiny. Yeah, man…I'm good. Listen…I just sent a friend your way, about that weird chick who wanted to work for the FBI, yeah." He listened as Darryl complained for a moment. "I know, I know…but look, Max is a straightforward guy. Just give her up, and he'll leave you be." After more protests, Tiny lost his cool. "Hey, I don't give a shit if you're still seeing her or if she's the best piece of tail you've ever had! Max Keenan will fucking _gut you_! Is she really worth all that?" After a short pause, Tiny huffed out a laugh. "Yeah, I didn't think so. Just…tell him what he wants to know and then stay the fuck away from her. Let Max deal with it, she's messed with the wrong people and you do not want that kind of heat, man. Trust me on this. I am doing you a favor by getting her away from you." He waited another moment while his friend continued his half-hearted bitching before he finally cut him off. "Yeah, just do what I say and you'll survive the whole ordeal, Darryl. Trust me on this. Later." After disconnecting the call, Tiny decided that he needed a vacation badly and immediately and hollered to the back of the shop. "Hey, Lorraine! You can come out now! It's your lucky day, baby…we're going to Cabo!"


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen

Booth stood in the doorway of the hospital room, quietly observing the scene in front of him. Sweets still lay in his bed, disturbingly still, flanked on either side by Cam and Brennan, both of whom were holding his slack hands.

The women had taken over the bedside vigil so that Bailey could go home to shower and relax for a few hours. In that time, there had been no change in Sweets' condition, and it seemed like, unless there was a miracle, time was slipping away. With a sigh, Booth moved into the room itself, taking the seat next to Brennan and slipping his arm around her.

"Any movement?" He whispered.

Cam shook her head. "No, nothing. The doctor said he is having muscle spasms, but that it's from whatever this damn poison is, and not from voluntary movement."

"Anything from Hodgins yet?"

"No, Angela went to the lab to see if she could help him, but that was hours ago." Brennan leaned into his embrace for a moment. "Have you heard from my dad?"

"Yeah. He has a lead on Colleen from an old contact and he was heading back here to check it out."

Brennan bristled. "Booth…he can't investigate this on his own, he is not a police officer."

"I know, Bones. He's only going to talk to another contact that might have had a run-in with her. That's all. I told him to call me the minute he had a bead on her. I'm not stupid." He ran a hand over his face in frustration.

She put a soft hand on his knee. "I know that, Booth…it's not you I'm worried about. You know my father…he's killed to keep me safe, so it would not be out of character for him to do something irrational now."

Booth moved his hand to the back of her neck and rubbed her nape. "Bones, he promised me he wouldn't do a thing if he found her. I made him swear he wouldn't do anything to his contact." He leaned towards her and looked her in the eye. "I gave him my trust, and Max will not violate that trust."

Nodding, Cam agreed. "Brennan, Max respects Booth. He wants to help and he wants to do it the right way."

"He has changed." Brennan acquiesced. "And I do trust him." At Booth's look, she reiterated. "I do trust him, Booth. But if things get out of hand unexpectedly…"

"Then he will walk away and call me. We worked it out between us, okay?" His hand moved from her hairline to her lower back. "Okay? I've got this."

She shook her head in defeat. "I really don't have any choice but to be okay. Right now…"

"Batrachotoxin!" Hodgins excited voice rang down the hallway of the intensive care unit. The three sitting around the bed all stood as one and started to head for the door as Angela ran in, panting from exertion.

"Hodgins found the poison all over Sweets' FBI ID!" She grabbed the door jamb, trying to catch her breath. "It comes from…whew, from poisoned frogs! He's already made an antivenin to counteract the effects."

Brennan, Booth and Cam all breathed as one, trying not to yell in excitement and disturb the other patients on the floor. "Thank God." Cam whispered.

"Amen." Booth crossed himself, a little surprised when Brennan sagged against him, barely standing. "You alright, Bones?"

Nodding against Booth's shoulder, Brennan bit back a sob. "Yes. Yes, I am."

Angela leaned over and kissed Brennan on the temple. "He's going to be fine, sweetie. I've already called Bailey, she's on her way. As soon as Jack gets the medicine to the lab here, they can test it and then administer it to Sweets."

"Why not now? He needs it as soon as possible!" Booth looked from the still figure on the bed to Cam and Brennan, confused.

Cam ran a comforting hand along Booth's arm. "Because, big man…we know Hodgins and we trust him, but the hospital can't just administer medication from anyone off the street. They need to run tests on it, make sure it's safe and viable. Dr. Andrasini is willing to do almost anything to help, but protocol needs to be followed."

"Fine, fine…alright." Booth ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "So, we keep waiting."

Three hours later, the team sat in the waiting room again, this time waiting for word that the antidote Hodgins had manufactured was doing its job. Booth and Brennan shared a small padded bench, their mutual silence only broken by the intermittent sound of Booth's leg bouncing up and down and Brennan's definitive slap on his thigh to stop him. Hodgins and Angela sat on the floor around the low coffee table with a Travel Scrabble spread in front of them, trying and failing to concentrate on the game. Cam paced the room quietly, stopping only when Booth's phone rang, interrupting the tomb-like silence.

"Booth." Listening to the caller, his eyes slipped closed and he shook his head. "How in the hell did that happen?" The voice on the other end obviously wasn't telling Booth what he wanted to hear and it was clear he was trying not to throw the cell across the room in frustration. "Well, find out how she got the goddamn job! And I want all of her information on my desk in exactly one hour. No ifs, ands or buts." He slapped the phone shut with a grunt and stood, hands on hips and scowl on his face.

"Was that about Colleen?" Brennan asked, reaching out to grab Booth's hand, both for comfort and to hold him still.

Pinching the bridge of his nose tightly, Booth shook his head. "Cameron."

"Who?" Cam asked, confused.

Booth allowed Brennan to pull him back to his seat, throwing his arm around her out of habit as he settled in, still irritated. "Cameron McDonald. She is the woman who set me up for murder and who almost killed Sweets. We know that Hodgins found the poison all over Sweets' FBI ID. She was working security at the Hoover, and she is the guard who scanned Sweets in yesterday morning. Security footage shows that she was wearing what looks like surgical gloves when she gave him back his badge, she must have applied the poison right before then."

Angela shook her head. "I thought her name was Colleen? How did she get a job with the FBI under a pseudonym?"

"She changed it, legally." Cam offered.

Booth nodded morosely. "She changed it a little less than twenty years ago." He gave Brennan a sideways glance. "Right after she aged out of the foster system."

"I don't understand." Brennan said, absently rubbing her forehead as she felt a headache coming on. "You're saying that she was the source of the poison, and that she poisoned Sweets by applying the venom to his FBI ID?"

"Right." Booth moved his arm back and rubbed her neck softly. "She's out of her mind, Bones. If you're right…and she was sleeping with Dale when you turned him in, maybe she holds you responsible?"

"But why now? That was decades ago!"

Angela pulled up the chair next to Brennan and sat, placing her hand on her friend's arm. "Bren, Booth is right. She obviously mentally imbalanced, and actions motivated by that kind of thing rarely make sense."

"Angela is right, Brennan. It's possible she hasn't had the means to do anything until now, or maybe she was in prison-" Cam stopped, exchanging looks with Booth. "You know it's _really_ possible…."

Booth stood and flipped his phone open. "Not a bad idea, Cam." He punched a number and stepped off to the side to call Charlie and get the full background check on Colleen slash Cameron while the rest of the team watched silently.

"Temperance? Angela?" Bailey's soft voice barely cut the quiet of the room, but it may as well have been like a scream, judging by the way the group reacted.

"Bailey!" Brennan gasped; taking in the younger woman's smiling face. "Is he…"

Bailey nodded, and then crossed the room and threw her arms around Hodgins, shoulders shaking with sobs. "Thank you, Dr. Hodgins…I-" She pulled back and kissed him full on the lips, causing Angela to laugh and Jack to step back nervously. Bailey didn't seem to notice as she held onto his hand. "I can never repay you for what you've done." She turned to the rest of the group, including Booth, who was now off the phone and smiling widely. "Lance's fever has broken and his respiration and heart rate are slowly returning to normal."

The cheer that rang out from the group brought a nurse peeking in to see what the noise was about, but she retreated quickly when she saw who the troublemakers were. The entire intensive care floor knew them all by now and was happy to give the obviously tight-knit group a little leeway.

Booth, Brennan, Cam and Angela all took turns giving Bailey a hug, taking the moment to enjoy some good news after so many days of worry and tension. Booth pulled Brennan into a tight embrace and kissed her forehead lightly. "You okay now, Bones?"

"Yes." She whispered into his shoulder. "I was so worried. If-"

"Now, none of that now." Booth chastised her gently. "Sweets is fine, we know who we're dealing with, we will get her." He leaned back and kissed her lips with a grin. "We're the best, baby."

"We really are."

Just then, Angela's cell began ringing, and she stepped to the side to answer it as everyone chatted quietly about Sweets and what lie ahead for his recovery. Only Booth noticed how Angela's face paled as she listened to whomever was on the line, and he nudged Hodgins towards his wife with a worried glance. They stood together for a few minutes as Angela continued to speak on the phone while Jack held her hand, not noticing that they now had everyone's attention as well.

Angela closed her cell and wrapped her arms around her husband, stifling a sob. Hodgins shook his head, confused. "Ang, baby…what the hell happened? Who was that?"

Sniffling, Angela leaned back, still in Jack's arms. "That was Janelle. From the gallery."

"Is she okay? What-"

"The gallery is gone, Jack. Burned to the ground. They suspect arson."

"Jesus." He shook his head. "And what about all your..?"

She whimpered slightly, his arms around her the only thing keeping her from swaying on her feet. "It's all gone. Everything…the paintings, the…sculpture…oh God, it's all destroyed."

Brennan sucked in a breath, moving to Angela's side and wrapping her arms around her. "Angela…I'm so sorry, I'm-" Guilt crossed her face, darkening her features. "This…it can't be a coincidence." She looked to Booth, who was shaking his head.

"Bones, we don't know that. Okay?" He joined the three of them huddled tightly together, putting a comforting hand on Jack's shoulder, Bailey and Cam trailing behind him to complete the circle.

Angela nodded in agreement. "They said it could have been arson, we don't know that for sure."

"But your sculpture…oh, Ang…" Brennan's breath caught. "I am so, so sorry…"

Waving her hands in front of her and shaking her head vehemently, her best friend deflected. "No, sweetie…this isn't your fault. And the sculpture can be recreated; I have hundreds of pictures of it." She sighed. "The paintings are gone, but…replacing them will just kick-start my inspiration, right?"

Brennan hugged Angela again, floored by her friend's reaction. "I wish I had your outlook on life, Ang."

Angela looked at the people around her and couldn't help but smile. "Well, admittedly, the thought of going out and getting blind drunk later is helping."

Booth laughed and tapped his friend on the tip of her nose playfully. "You are so on, Ang. As soon as we get Sweets squared away, we're tying one on."

"Tying one on what?" Brennan huffed at the amused looks on everyone's faces. "Sometimes, none of you make any sense to me."


End file.
